“You fly on your brooms, they say, cursing and hexing those below...This is the season for your flight they say...so up into the air we go.What no flying, but here's my broom I say!Come on now why did I join this troop, if not to play?”

“A Harvest, what do you mean a Harvest ...a celebration of the Earth...oh how boring I say...” (umm this penty is not what they say it is worth) .“I came to fly, I wanted to so bad...but you all are stuck on the ground...what fun is it to weave and sing making magick on the sound?

"A cat at least, black and glowing in the eyes? I see a tail and a bright green eye on a kitten with a bell.What fun is that?What kind of hag are you...? A kitten? Where's the Hell?You all are steeped in Devils Juice! Where is it by the way?A time of remembrance of loved ones past?Well I did not sign up for that,

Hi Ho this witch is gone!” (I wonder if I can get my money back)

~Witch~“OK my Sisters and Brothers of the path... little Miss Witch is gone.”

“Shall we have our cider and barley cakes now? or after we return before the dawn?”

So we put down our brooms and circle around, braiding the strands of fate, together we sigh, and together we sing, And together we enter the sky!Our robes fly out and our capes whisper, " seee, seeee the witches are free."

Over the rooftops we go, while sitting there in the circle glow.The fire blazes on shadowed faces of witches half asleep...Our dreams shaped on flickering lids and the ancient mysteries so deep, For we are the sky, the stars, the glow of the moon…the sea and the waves…But down to earth we must return, the dawn is about to break…

Awake we stir and heave a sigh, looking smilingly around, We laughingly say “all are here; none are lost, amongst the silvery clouds”.We start our chant to the Horned One, He who will say farewell, for in the arms of the Wise Old One he will sleep and dream til Yule.

We start to circle round and round chanting as we go,

" OH Lord of Horns and Lord of Might bring to us the second sight...Bring to us our loved ones bright, bring to us this SAMHAIN NIGHT!"

We rest and drink our cider hot, and nibble on the cakes.We share a bit with Mother Earth, blessing Her for our fate.

In the fires burning low, in the embers quiet glowI see a face who will it be... that face is becoming more like me...A different time, a different place, Cleopatra? No just a mom, seems that is my fate.But hold on now... there I do walk the round...in the circle with my chums, Witches still will circle the ground.

In the future there will be Witches flying free like thee and me.May we all Blessed be !

To send a private email message to Keir Gazelle...
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